Archive for the 'fake-CHOP' Category

CHOP CHOP CHOP CHOP

What the fuck is everyone doing? I’m doing jack shit at work, and hating every minute of it.

Working on your resume really only makes you feel better if you’ve got a place to send it.

Projectplaylist.com

Check that shit out, free music.

CHOP. All you faggots are chopped for not blogging and being gay.

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Bitches

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Abdication saves ruler from the blade

Shiiiiit.  I’ve been gone.  I know it, you know it, all of SWS knows it.  I hear it almost daily from Stoney’s filthy face sewer. 

The glory days of summer are over (for the time being) my friends.  All the joy I experienced for writing words laced with daggers, tasers, and cocaine has dropped out the window.  Now when I sit down to this shitbox of a computer, it is to write bullshit about how China’s economy is squeezing Atlas’ testicles, or comparing/contrasting the works of Thomas Jefferson to John Locke.  F U C K I N G   B U L L S H I T.  Heres my comparison for you professor, they are both rotted corpses and both were probably assholes.  Deal with that.

I hate school, always have.  I enjoy learning, but do not feel the need to participate in an institution’s theory of how to learn.  A college degree means only one thing; you put up with four-? years of bullshit and getting fucked by pricks who believe they are better than you.  A degree does not mean you are smart.  See also: Dank, Suit, and Stoney.  I know plenty of college graduates who are complete and utter mongoloids, and I am sure you readers do as well.  It is all about how much shit you are willing to take.

That being said, I am taking the bullshit royally lately.  Mired in group projects with a bunch of knuckle-dragging slackers who cannot perform basic grammatical or mathematic operations has left me increasingly jaded; more so than usual.  Honestly, I have not thought about this fucking blog in quite some time, and yes it shows.  With many calls for the king’s head, I was teetering ever so close to one of Stoney’s false chops, hoping to extort me back into writing. 

However, the king has abdicated his throne for a while to a worthy up-and-comer from the population – Twitch.  I salute you, Twitch for picking up my slack in these dark and dire times.  The king will be back, most likely with a sharper tongue and infinitely more skewed views.  Abdication will always save one’s head from the chop.  More to come at a later date………I promise.

Sincerely,

His Royal Roughtonius of Funkytown.

The Guillotine? Please, Biatch

I’ve got one hand to type with, so it won;t be much.  My one hand however will blow your proverbial loads with the profundity of my blogging wizardry.  just returned from afar and am currently ‘sojourning in society’ (name that author) to the desperate delight of all you unsavage settled society sinners.  in this jingle jangle morning without a tambourine i am inspired to waste more space on the blog.  in my absence and natural objective disconnection combined with a previous feeling i must say we have all become lazy.  we have relied on pictures to glitter our stories with extra sensory excitement.  with that said, here’s some of that…

For all of us Americans.  Yippee kay yay motherfuckers.  oh yeah, james marshall served in the 101st till he broke his leg on a jump.  Currahee! i know i celebrated in true american fashion on white man don’t pay your taxes day–i blew shit up.

p.s.  i’m just going to start Dankknuggets’s weekly music video.  it will however be more like whenever i get to it and i’ll prolly get tired after like three.  oh, zack kim is retroactively part of this mini series, so i guess there’s one left.  well, here goes…

p.s.s. just cause i’ve been out of contact for awhile– roughty, you’re a bitch.  and who the hell is gn?  and once again, roughty, you’re a bitch. 

 check below too, related but not the same.

Rubber Matches, Growing Up, Other Reflections and another Roll Call

the first category tag i clicked was worthless friday, cuz that’s what i’m in.  it’s fantastic.  finally some time to interact with the tech-junkies, alcoholics and weed-fiends who read this link-laden, anti-american, diaperlicious bloghole. 

has anybody noticed that politics are continuing to play a large role in our blog?!  i can’t believe that shit.  if you knew, (and most of you do), the authors, you’d be as surprised as me.  four years in the burg, and we never talked about it.  now it’s all over everything.  i think that comes along with growing older.  things we never cared about before are starting to look more and more important.  we’re all realizing our global citizenship, and i think it’s pretty encouraging.  now all we have to do is change the minds of all the fuckos in general society *(see stoney’s note about the a&f models on the airplane… these are the dipshits to whom i’m referring.) 

on another very different topic, there’s this issue going on in the baseball world.  my boy john smoltz won his 200th career decision last night.  i don’t need to remind any of you who the braves defeated.  i don’t need to tell you that they beat the metropolitans.  further, i don’t need to explain to any of you that this win brough the braves record against the mets to 6 wins and 3 losses on the season.  no, i don’t need to mention any of these things.  why am i talking about it then?  to hurt your sensitive yankee feelings?  no.  to rub salt into your still-smarting wounds from last october?  of course not.  well, i’ll tell you why.  the braves are currently recruiting new fans, and if you all have been converted over the past few days, just let me know, and i’ll be happy to provide a letter of recommendation.  no guarantees, but it’s at least a 50-50 they’ll accept you.  last night’s prodigious victory over the hated mets was a rubber match.  “what is a rubber match?” all of you except the sport-savvy roughty might be asking yourselves.  again, i’ll explain it for you.  in a 3-game series, if each team wins one of the first two games, game three is the rubber match.  in a 7-game series that’s tied at three games each, game seven is the rubber match.  check out this helpful wiki article on the topic.  http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Rubber_match

what’s the point of this discussion? it’s not just to make fun of the sucky mets.  in fact, i want to bring it back to politics.  since i’ve been old enough to think about politics, there have been two presidents.  (during bush the elder’s administration, i didn’t understand anything at all about it.)  these presidents have been billy clinton and george dubya bush — a democrat and a republican.  in 2008, we’ll have the rubber match between these two political powerhouses.  as in sports, this rubber match will play a big role on the way our generation will be viewed.  will our generation be defined by the shitty republicans or the shitty democrats?  lord only knows.  i got a guess, but it’s just that — a guess.  so i won’t even mention it here.  in a baseball rubber match, all we can do is drink beer and root for our own version of the good guys.  last night, my team won, and i was happy.  roughty’s team lost, and i’m sure he drowned on his tears.  in politics, however, we can play the game and get involved.  we can be the shortstop who turns the double play, or we can be the asshole who lets the ball roll right between his legs.  (by the by, what team was he on again?  hahaha.)  either way, in politics, we don’t have to sit on the sidelines.  we can cast our votes and join in the action, right?  here’s the other big difference.  if i make a throwing error, and the winning run scores for the other team, the game is over and i immediately know who won.  if i hit the walk-off homer, it’s conclusive.  i’m the big winner.  with politics, it’s not so cut and dry.  i might cast my vote and be all happy for a couple years after my selected puppet wins.  then, out of nowhere, he blows some country off the map, and my walk-off homer turns into a “you-blew-it” game ending error. that’s why, when this year’s political rubber match comes along, i’ll be drinking beer and watching from the sidelines.  the punchline of this discourse — do yourself a favor and don’t vote.  vote for your favorite amer. idol.  vote for which of the stars dances best.  vote for the best apple pie you ate at the county fair.  don’t vote for the president.  you’ll invariably be sorry!

thus ends the politics of this post.

i’m still going to school.  it still sucks.  i also work at a school.  that, too, is no good.  i am trying to learn about the material required for my degree, but all i keep learning about is that everybody only cares about money.  the only question my peers and superiors ask themselves is, “how can i make the most money off this situation?”  it’s sad to think that this is the world we’re trying to earn membership into.  maybe the solution is to drop out and move to an island and try to grow coconuts for food and decorative brassieres.  my ridiculous boss’s boss’s boss’s boss volunteered me today to take part in some terrible task around the office.  my autonomy is non-existant.  i don’t decide what i do at all.  they tell me what to do, and i do it.  it’s bad for one’s psychology.  you’ve all been there.  i guess the right thing to do is just grin and bear it until retirement… in like 60 years.  one more thing about work, i had to make a presentation yesterday to a room full of suits.  i wore a rainbow colored (ambiguously androgenous) plaid shirt untucked and my oldest, rattiest pants.  i gave a great presentation.  (probably because dank wasn’t there flicking his damned zippo to distract me.)  after this, i got an email from my boss’s boss who told me that i should have dressed nicer.  this is a big old problem in our society.  why in the world do people still judge you based on the clothes you wear?  i’ll tell you.  it’s because they’re terrible idiots who don’t know any better.  and these are the people who i’m scrambling to compete with as a peer…  sad.

well, mr dank nuggets is in, so let the fun begin.  in honor of him, i’m taking this opportunity to post yet another savage roll call.  feast your eyes on the following collection:

most savage cartoon character:  Monterey Jack — he’ll whip your ass and then console you in a lovely aussie accent.

honorable mention:  Nermal — fresh off the boat from abu dhabi

least savage cartoon character:  Rita and Runt — an ill-fated space-filler in an otherwise exceptional show

most savage world leader:  Queen of Jordan — rules with an iron fist and a lovely pair of jumblies

honorable mention:  Stalin — (translation of caption:  respect the moustache.  fear the moustache.  obey the moustache.)

least savage world leader:  Jacques Chirac (someone either just snuck up him, or he was presented with a lovely quiche.)

most savage cereal mascot:  Sonny (cocoa puffs) — this guy has “junkie” written all over his face

honorable mention:  Andy Milonakis (fruity pebbles)

least savage ceareal mascot:  Tony (frosted flakes) — why don’t you find a gayer bandana.  we’re not all convinced you’re a homo yet.

most savage car model of all times:  AMC Eagle (no competition)

honorable mention:  El Camino (the original cross-over vehicle)

least savage car model of all times:  ford tempo (my first car)

most savage blogger:  suityourself (no photo available)

least savage blogger:  you (look in the mirror and recognize your inferiority.)

finally, most savage drugs:  steriods

least savage drugs:  whipits (you’ll freeze your lungs)

Suityourself, you are toast

Suityourself, I am tempted to remove your mask of anonymity to give you your due lashing. You Bitch!

One of my oldest and truest friends, please forgive me in advance, you fucker. We have always had our battles, and this is just another extension of our penis contests.

One of the first times you failed me was when we stole Frank Nuggets’ brownies. Let me quickly recap for the guests and readers. Frank Nuggets was a hallmate of ours freshman year, and he had brownies. You, me and Deddog conspired to steal his mint brownies. Frank had 2 kinds of brownies, but was saving the mint for his own personal self. He made us all swear to not steal his shit, but we did anyway, and then swore an oath of silence and allegiance to ourselves as well. When Frank Nuggets found out, he immediately confronted us in the lounge. He asked me first, and I refused adamantly that we had anything to do with it, Deddog followed as planned, but YOU, you pussy bitch, you ratted us out like a spineless third grader. Shit! As you could and do quickly reply, “What happened? What was he going to do?” Obviously, he couldn’t do shit, but it was just a taste of what was to come.

Another time, sophomore year right after Christmas. I had just caught the rock star bug, and was looking to go onstage. You were my roommate and partner in crime. We practiced for 2 hours to play Radiohead and Beatles, and wreck some shit. We walked with guitars to the gay ass UC Lounge, and then YOU fucking pussed out when we got there, and said you couldn’t play because you were scared of being embarrassed. Give me a fucking break, we were surrounded by retards that you hated. Embarrassed? You were by far the sickest musician other than LB, and you didn’t even like LB, you were in a league of your own. Embarrassed? Fucking please…you just didn’t want to nut up or something. I will never forget that, it was my first stage performance to rock out guitar, you let me down after practicing and getting it together. WTF?

In lieu of a third travesty, which I could dig up if I wanted, I will say that I have let you down just as hard, just in different ways. This post was not meant to dig salt into the wounds of the past. Instead, just think about all the mean shit we did to each other, but we’re still good friends. To boot, for each stupid bad shit we did, we did tons worse to other people (Jbones), and we did so much more awesome shit on our own.

Suit, I consider you one of my closest and gravest homies, and our friendship is just a tad deeper than any blog shitstem that any cool guy could make up. To my boy Suityourself, the first commenter on this fine blogstablishment, the most popular poster on this site (by far), I say, “OFF WITH YOUR FUCKING HEAD”

CHOP

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Editor’s Note: Suit did indeed receive the dreaded CHOP, but he begged for me to let him back in, and I agreed to be nice. Like Roughty told Haganav, “Get your shit together, Suit, there are no 3rd chances.”